D-Boy

by Edward Kendrick

  “Happy?” Brad asked, leaning on the railing next to Derek.

  “Supremely so.” He shifted his stance to lean against Brad and was about to say more when a shot rang out.

  Instinctively both men dove for cover, lying flat on the small deck. Carefully Derek lifted his head to look over the gunwale below the railings. All he saw were woods on both sides of the canal.

  “A hunter, maybe?”

  “I’d like to think so, but…” Brad pointed to a small hole in the cabin wall’s exterior. “What hunter shoots at boats?”

  “An idiot? Or a kid trying to show off?”

  “Do you see either one?”

  “No.” Derek sat up cautiously then slithered over to stand in shadows of the stairwell leading down to the cabin.

  Brad joined him seconds later, muttering, “I’m getting too old for this,” as they both scanned the shoreline. “If anyone’s out there, he’s not moving.”

  “Do you really think someone was purposely shooting at us?”

  “Let’s hope not, but let’s not be stupid either. We’ll stay in the middle of the canal and away from the railings until we’re sure no one’s going to take more potshots at us. And speed up some too.” He went through the cabin to the rear of the boat, setting their speed to fifteen miles per hour and locking the tiller in place so they wouldn’t veer left or right.

  Derek joined him, sitting on the low bench next to the cabin wall. “There’s no way anyone would know where we are.”

  “You know that’s not true. We have our phones with us, and we didn’t make any particular effort to hide where we were going, since we’re using our real names. We drove to the airport, and when we got to Rochester, we took a cab to the marina to pick up the boat. The question is, if someone’s gunning for one or both of us, who would it be?”

  Derek snorted softly. “Do you have an hour for me to list all the people who might not be too happy with me? On the other hand, when I do a job, no one knows who I really am.”

  “Except when you have to testify.”

  “Not even then. I do it on the understanding my testimony will be ‘in camera’. You know that. You’ve done it too, in the past. There’s no way the defendant or his lawyer knows who we are.”

  “In theory, and presumably, in fact. You’ve got one coming up in three weeks. If the word got out somehow what your real name is…”

  “Impossible, unless there’s a leak in the Company.” Derek stared at Brad. “And why does it have to be me they’re after, if it really was an assassination attempt and not some idiot who shouldn’t have a gun?”

  “Because I’m not in the field anymore, and it’s been long enough since I was that no one should be trying to come after me, even if they knew I was involved with getting them busted, which they wouldn’t.”

  “Then logically that shot had to be just an accident and nothing more.”

  Brad smiled tightly. “Logically, yes.”

  “But we’re still going to be very careful, at least for the next few hours. After that, if nothing happens…well I, for one, am not going to let it ruin our vacation.”

  “Neither of us is,” Brad agreed. “So we’ll hope for the best, and enjoy the rest of our trip.”

  * * * *

  Nothing happened for the rest of the day, so by evening they had finally relaxed enough to tie up the houseboat at a pier and walk into the small town close by for supper.

  Even though they had unwound, they still kept their eyes peeled for trouble on their way back. Nothing happened however, much to Derek’s relief. When they got back, they made slow, tender love then fell asleep, lulled by the gentle rocking of the boat.

  Derek was the first one awake the next morning. After dressing in shorts and a T-shirt, he went into the galley to make coffee then took a cup of it with him when he went out on deck. He hissed in a sharp breath.

  Then Brad said from behind him, “Breakfast? If so, I’ll pass.” He was referring to the two dead, decapitated rats lying there, still oozing blood onto the deck.

  “I’d say that shot yesterday was not an accident,” Derek said angrily.

  “I’ll second that. And whoever left these did so very recently.”

  “Agreed.” Derek stared a moment longer at what they both knew was a message to one of them. Then he went inside to get paper towels and plastic bags so he could clean up the mess.

  While he did, Brad placed a secured call to Larson, waking him up, since it was two hours earlier in Denver. He explained what was happening and gave Larson a list of equipment they’d need. “Send it by courier to Spencerport. There’s a small airport there.” A moment later he was saying, “I don’t care how the fuck you do it. We should be at the town by eleven. Make sure one of our people is there to meet us.”

  Derek looked up as he bagged the second dead rat. “Pulling rank?”

  Brad shrugged. “I’m pissed is all. Beyond pissed. This was supposed to be our time for ourselves, not for someone to use us as target practice. Some asshole who has a hard-on for one of us.”

  “Let me get rid of these,” Derek said, squeezing Brad’s shoulder with his free hand then pointing to a trash container on the pier. “You start the boat.”

  “Just…”

  “Be careful. I know.” Derek made quick work of getting to the container then back on board. As soon as he had, he untied the mooring rope and they took off.

  Joining Brad at the back of the boat, Derek said, “How the hell are we going to figure out who’s doing this?”

  Brad ran his fingers through his short, blond hair, frowning. “Our best bet is, it has to do with the trial. The Medina cartel can’t be happy you broke one of their pipelines into the state and that you’re going to testify against two of their main people there.”

  “But there’s no way…”

  “You said it yourself yesterday. If there’s a leak, or they paid someone enough to make it worth their while to rat you out, then they’d know.”

  “Which means we have to find out who that is, along with keeping ourselves safe.”

  “You safe.”

  “If we’re right and I’m the target.”

  “We’ll figure it’s you until we find out otherwise.”

  “Which would be when they try to take you out. So we’re both going to be on high alert.”

  “No shit. Maybe we should cancel the rest of the trip and head back home.”

  “No way in hell!” Derek replied. “We’re not letting some half-assed mother-fucker ruin this. We’ll just have to catch them before they have a chance to do anything more.”

  Brad smiled and gave him a quick hug. “How did I know you’d say that?”

  “Because after six years of living together, you know me well.”

  “Very well, thank God. So yeah, we’ll stop them, finish our trip, and if it is someone from the cartel who set this up, we’ll nail their ass and whoever let them know about you.”

  Derek smiled wryly. “If they know about me, they probably know about you, so whoever’s doing this could be after the both of us.”

  Brad nodded. “The fact that there were two rats sort of supports that theory.” He checked the shore, as did Derek, before saying, “A potshot, the rats, whoever they are, they’re toying with us—probably trying to drive us off the boat.”

  “Then we stay on it. Is the courier coming to us?”

  “Yep. We’ll dock long enough for him to give us our stuff then move on.”

  Derek shook his head. “We’ll stay in the middle of the canal. He can rent a launch to bring it out to us, but not until after dark.”

  “Good idea.” Brad was on his phone seconds later, relaying the change of plans. “Now we just have to find something to do to keep us logically busy if anyone’s watching.” When Derek grinned, Brad added, “Not that, D-Boy. I was thinking more along the lines of fishing.”

  “Spoilsport,” Derek muttered. But he knew Brad was right. Sex in the afternoon, or any time in the foresee
able future, wouldn’t help them stay alert for possible trouble. Quite the contrary.

  Oh well, we’ll survive without it until this is over. Maybe.

  * * * *

  While they didn’t catch any fish, Derek and Brad managed to relax, marginally. No one shot at them. No boats came close enough during the rest of the day that they had to worry about.

  The courier arrived well after dark and, not terribly surprisingly when Derek thought about it, he didn’t actually rent a launch. He came silently by rowboat, slipping through the darkness after alerting them he was on his way. The two boxes he brought contained weapons and security equipment. With the courier’s help, they set up perimeter security on the boat, as well as on the doors leading to the cabin. They also installed a rotating video camera with heat-sensing capabilities on the cabin’s roof. It relayed information to a monitoring unit on the table. They’d use it to keep an eye on the shore and on any boats coming too close to theirs.

  “And that’s all we can do now, other than wait and watch,” Brad said, once the courier was gone and they were moving again.

  “Honestly, I hope he attacks soon, so we can get this over with,” Derek replied tensely. “I only do waiting well when I’m the one doing the stalking.”

  “Go try to get some sleep. I’ll take first watch.”

  Derek did go to bed, remaining fully clothed other than his shoes. But sleep wouldn’t come so eventually he moved through the darkened cabin to join Brad on the padded bench at the table. “Anything?” he asked, since Brad was watching the monitor at the moment.

  “Nothing so far. I’ve got it on heat-sensor mode for now. Two barges passed us, probably carrying goods upstream. The shore is quiet but as late as it is, that’s not surprising.” He put his arm around Derek. “Can’t sleep?”

  Derek shook his head before resting it on Brad’s shoulder. He glanced at the monitor, then pointed to a small boat that was coming into view at the bottom of the frame. “Night fishing?” he wondered aloud, since the two men in the boat seemed to have fishing lines dangling over the edge. The angle and the green tones of the image made it hard to determine if that’s what they were.

  They both watched intently as the boat pulled closer to their bow.

  “I’d say that’s a no,” Brad replied, as he sprang to his feet, grabbing his gun, with its night scope, that had been sitting on the table beside the monitor.

  Derek agreed. One of the men had thrown something at the houseboat. He heard it hit the deck, even as the security alarms went off. He snagged his gun from the galley counter, heading toward the door.

  “Out the back way,” Brad ordered.

  The reason became obvious when the front of the boat was suddenly engulfed in flames. Racing out the back exit, Derek and Brad instantly backed into the minimal safety of the doorway when shots rang out as the boat carrying the two assassins came up on their left side. Dropping to one knee, Derek returned fire, covering Brad while he crawled to the gunwale at the edge of the deck. Resting his gun on it, Brad sighted through his scope and shot. One of their attackers flew off the side of the fishing boat into the water. The second man ducked low and continued shooting.

  By then, the heat from the fire was making itself felt. When Brad glanced quickly at him, Derek pointed to the far side of the houseboat. Brad nodded, crawling in that direction. Derek remained kneeling where he was, took careful aim, and shot twice. One bullet hit his target in the chest but not before the man got off a shot of his own.

  * * * *

  Derek regained consciousness to find he was lying on the grassy edge of the shore with Brad hovering over him. He was soaking wet, and he discovered when he gingerly touched the side of his head, bleeding as well. He looked at Brad and managed a small smile. “It didn’t work. I still don’t remember anything.”

  “Thank God,” Brad said, relief flooding his face. “Not about not remembering, but that you can joke about it.”

  Even as Brad said that, police and an ambulance pulled up on the road above them. Moments later, two EMTs started checking Derek’s wound while the police officers talked to Brad. The smell of smoke drifted over from the canal and when he was able to, Derek looked and saw the remnants of the houseboat, the burned out hull barely afloat in the water.

  The EMTs bandaged the crease along one side of Derek’s head, just above his ear, and told him the wound wasn’t severe, but they were still going to take him in to the hospital so the doctors could check him for possible concussion.

  He rolled his eyes, muttering, “I’ve been hurt worse than this, several times.” When one of the EMTs looked over at Brad, frowning deeply, Derek said, “Not by him, damn it, so get that thought out of your head right now.”

  The EMT didn’t look as if he quite believed Derek as he helped him to his feet. When Brad came over to them, the EMT seemed as if he was going to put himself between the two men. Derek was having none of that. He put his arms around Brad’s waist and blatantly kissed him, then glanced at the EMT with a ‘so there’ look.

  Cocking an eyebrow, Brad murmured, “Problems?”

  The EMT looked at him and, surprisingly, as far as Derek was concerned, replied, “Not any more, sir. We’re taking him to the hospital, if you want to ride with us…” He motioned to the open ambulance door.

  Two hours later, after Derek had been thoroughly examined, he and Brad left the hospital wearing scrubs one of the doctors had found for them. Brad carried their still wet clothes in a plastic trash bag.

  “Next stop, the police station,” Brad told Derek. “They want a full report on what happened.”

  “What did you tell them when they talked to you earlier?”

  “The truth, up to a point. I said you were going to be a witness at a drug trial and that you were in protective custody until then.”

  “On a houseboat, in the middle of the Erie Canal. They bought that?”

  Brad grinned. “I can be very convincing when necessary. When we get to the station, I’ll put in a call to Larson to back us up.”

  The talk with the detective in charge of their case was tense, even with Larson backing up their story. The detective was not pleased that the canal had become a battleground, and even less so when the body of one of the attackers, which had floated downstream, was found by an unwary tourist.

  Derek pointed out, keeping his demeanor serious, that the tourist would probably end up bragging about it to all his friends when he got back home. He blew that when he added with a grin, “It’ll be a ‘How I Spent My Summer Vacation’ story for years to come.”

  The detective frowned in annoyance for a moment before smiling slightly. “With luck, you’re probably right.”

  When they finally were allowed to leave, Brad insisted they get a hotel room so Derek could finally get the rest he needed. If it hadn’t been for the fact he could hardly keep his eyes open, Derek might have protested he wasn’t tired. As it was, he slept for nine hours straight. When he finally woke up, the room was empty. For a moment he panicked, afraid there had been another person involved in the attempt to kill them and they had found Brad.

  He was soon disabused of that idea when he heard a key turn in the lock and Brad came in, his arms loaded with shopping bags. He set them down on the dresser and came over, sitting on the side of the bed.

  “How are you feeling?”

  “Not bad, considering,” Derek told him. “This—” he touched the bandage over his wound “—still hurts some. But it’ll go away. What’s in the bags? Dinner?”

  Brad kissed him before replying, “Clothes. Everything we brought with us is gone, other than what we had on. I emptied the pockets of our shorts then tossed them.” He grinned. “You should have seen the look on the clerk’s face when I went into the store in the scrubs. He was very happy by the time I left, however. I probably dropped more money there than anyone has in a long time.”

  “Why so much? We just needed one clean set to wear on the flight home.”

  “We h
ave the rest of our vacation and, damn it, we’re going to do something with the time remaining. So, we need clothes.”

  “Not if we spend it all here, in bed.” Derek grinned lasciviously.

  “We still have to go out to eat.”

  “Room service.”

  Brad laughed. It was quickly cut short when Derek pulled him down beside him, locking their lips together in a torrid kiss while trying to get Brad’s T-shirt off of him. Since he couldn’t do both at once, he opted for continuing the kiss. But when it ended, he stripped the T-shirt off his lover, made quick work of removing his shorts, and started to work his way from Brad’s lips down his body to his already swelling cock.

  Since they’d been together for so long, and were faithful, they no longer needed condoms. Thus Derek had no second thoughts about torturing Brad by licking his leaking slit before taking his cock slowly into his mouth, tormenting him unmercifully as he did. He had Brad on the verge of coming, by dint of swallowing him slowly then pulling back and doing it again, although he didn’t allow it to go any further.

  Suddenly, Brad pulled out and flipped Derek onto his back. “You want to play games?” Brad asked, smiling wickedly as he left the bed momentarily. He came back holding two silk scarves.

  “Umm…” Derek gulped when Brad tied one around each of his wrists, but didn’t resist when he pulled his arms up, tying them to the rails of the headboard. He watched wide-eyed as Brad bent to tease his nipples with licks and soft nips, each one sending bolts of pleasure straight to his groin.

  Wordlessly, Brad continued his sweet tormenting with more licks, nips, and kisses to Derek’s chest, abs, and inner thighs. When he wrapped his fingers tightly around the base of Derek’s cock and took it into his mouth, Derek knew he was in trouble. He writhed in agonized ecstasy, struggling against the restraining scarves, while Brad brought him closer and closer to coming without giving him the release he craved. Then Brad sat back, his fingers still locked around Derek’s cock.

  “Now what should I do with you?” Brad asked, a grin lighting his face.

  “Fuck me,” Derek pleaded. “Now. Hard. Please,” he moaned.